“This body is dying. I am dying but I will survive inside the earth, or in spirit or in water. I will be gone, but I will be born anew. #Bl
EXPECTATIONS

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@weepingninjawasteland
“This body is dying. I am dying but I will survive inside the earth, or in spirit or in water. I will be gone, but I will be born anew. #Bl
How do you people get followers. Tumblr is such a mystery to me.
Like I see all these amazing conversations etc but like HOW
Excitedly talking to someone about musicals: so you definitely have to listen to Hamilton and Dear Evan Hansen.
My sister: wait, so they're not the same thing.
Let's just say that there was a bloodbath after that.
Me before dinner party: I will not talk about Hamilton
*Makes the dinner party listen to the entire soundtrack after someone mentions being helpless*
Me after dinner party: yeah, it's ok. I'm not like obsessed with it.
Mary’s Dinner
Little Mary had a lamb, had a lamb, had a lamb,
Little Mary had a lamb
Who’s fleece was black as ash.
It followed her to prison one day, prison one day, prison one day,
It followed her to prison one day,
And got shot before it could dash.
Little Mary cried out loud, cried out loud, cried out loud,
Little Mary cried out loud,
For her dinner was frozen as ice.
So I was rereading Harry Potter, when I came across this and thought- what if instead of Cedric Diggory, Cassius Warrington had been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?
Imagine Dumbledore calling out the name of the Hogwarts champion and it isn’t a Gryffindor, or a Ravenclaw, or even a Hufflepuff, but it’s a Slytherin. A student from a House most people hate.
Imagine Cassius Warrington getting up, and three out of four Houses are booing at him and shouting things like “NO!” or, “We can’t have a Slytherin champion!” or demanding a retry. But he’s a Slytherin- he’s been dealing with this shit since he got sorted, so he keeps his head high and joins the other champions.
Imagine Harry trying to catch Warrington alone because he doesn’t really want to associate with Slytherins (plus Malfoy has this tendency of being around the guy ALL THE TIME since he got chosen), but at the same time he’s also fair enough not to want him to walk into the first task unprepared.
Imagine Warrington walking over to Harry a few months later, and Ron and Hermione both jump into a protective stance, wands out, but instead of attacking Harry he just tells him to stick the egg underwater. (Because Slytherins don’t forget those who helped them out).
Imagine Warrington and Harry helping each other out in the labyrinth.
Imagine Harry being devastated when Peter kills Warrington- because Voldemort doesn’t care what house they’re form, a spare is a spare.
Imagine the uproar that causes among the Slytherins, because some of their parents really are Death Eaters and they know what really happened.
Imagine Slytherins fighting in the Battle of Hogwarts and shouting “This is for Cassius!”
Imagine Harry returning with Warrington’s body, and the crowd realizes what’s happened, but Warrington’s parents don’t show up. There’s no one to mourn him, to cradle him in their arms and cry for their son. The Slytherins know why. His parents were Death Eaters, too.
Imagine Slytherins reaching out, asking for help from classmates from other houses. They’re terrified, truly terrified because the being their parents claimed would never hurt them because they’re pureblood, they realize that he does not care.
Imagine Slytherins in the 5th book sneaking off to join Dumbledore’s Army, to learn more about who Voldemort is without their parents acting as a filter.
Imagine the shock when they’re told what he’s really done.
Imagine that a few talented Slytherins went with Harry and the others into the Ministry of Magic. The others are a bit wary but they prove themselves as friends.
Imagine them being confronted by Lucius Malfoy in the the Hall of Prophecy, and when the Death Eaters descend, they know that any one of them could be their parents.
Imagine the shocked gasp of a Death Eater as they realize their own child, a pureblood, is standing defiantly with Harry Potter. They choke back a cry. They can’t let their child know that they were about to duel to the death.
Imagine a DA Slytherin facing off against their own Death Eater parent. That they make the decision to let their child defeat them, because in that moment, they realize that they love their child more than they fear Voldemort. They go down, mask unveiled, and the Slytherin kid has to be dragged from the fight before he gets killed.
Imagine Book 6 Slytherins getting more friendly and cooperative with the other houses. Two years of Voldemort terrorizing the muggle and Wizarding world, two years where their parents just up and leave some days, cringing from the pain in their arm, two years after the death of the first Slytherin pureblood, Cassius Warrington, killed by Voldemort’s right-hand man, and they’re slowly hitting the breaking point.
Imagine Slytherin kids keeping tabs on their parents, sending the information to Harry, who shares it with the Order of the Phoenix, and hoping that their parents won’t be killed.
Imagine Book 7 Slytherins low-key rebelling against the new oppressive Hogwarts staff.
Imagine the final siege on Hogwarts, where Slytherins stand proudly by their fellow houses, knowing full-well they could be fighting their own parents. Some Slytherins know their parents were in the fighting. They hope to find them first and sneak them away. Their fellow students understand. Professor McGonagall allows 7th Year Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson, to duel a death eater in her stead; her father is under that veil. She knows it.
Imagine the aftermath of the battle; every house suffered loses. Slytherin students crying over the deaths of friends they made in every house.
Imagine a Cassius Warrington statue made in his honor, the first Slytherin to fight and die nobly with Harry Potter, the boy who lived, in the face of ultimate evil. He was a true Slytherin, and it’s in his name that Slytherin children and their families have cut all ties with the Death Eaters, denounced Voldemort, and are finally living in peace.
#i do enjoy cedric #but this would have been immensely wonderful in many ways (via batty4u)
Imagine a story in which Harry wasn’t in love with his fellow champion’s girlfriend, but after her boyfriend’s death just hugs her so long, so hard, and says “he wanted to win for you. You should know–you should know he won, he did it for you” and gives her the best hug and shoulder he knows how to be because her parents aren’t there either and she must know why.
Imagine Harry staring over her head at everyone else until Hermione steps up–it doesn’t take long, but it takes long enough that when she does all eyes are on her as a source of motion–and says “we’re never going to forget this. They’re not going to get away with it” and the girlfriend just latches onto Hermione and everyone is in wands-out stance convinced she’s about to attack the shit out of Hermione, and then the girlfriend stares into her eyes and says “do you promise me” and Hermione just gives her this super-firm nod and says “I promise” and the girlfriend just collapses on her, sobbing.
Imagine Dumbledore trying to give some flowery speech about inter-wizard solidarity while glossing over why, because Slytherins have always been a touchy subject, and Ron gets to his feet and says “Professor, I need to say something important” and Dumbledore is so surprised he just cedes the floor, and Ron–after that awkward moment when he realizes everyone is staring at him–says he didn’t know Warrington particularly, but he knows how Warrington and Harry played. That each was always cheering on the other. Both wanted to win, but neither was willing to undercut the other by underhanded means. He finishes up saying “I think–I think it’s important everyone should know he died being what a champion should be. Because he could have abandoned Harry and instead he stood up with him to play the game the honest way, and he died for it. And–and Slytherin House should be proud, and we should all be proud, because Warrington was a good bloke.” He sits back down all flustered because he didn’t actually stand up meaning to make a speech. And then Pansy Parkinson stands up before Dumbledore can take back control of the room and says “I want to tell Weasley thank you.” And all of Slytherin House raises a glass–to Warrington, to Weasley, to Potter–and the other houses follow suit. Many years later, Wizarding scholars will say that was the moment Voldemort truly lost.
Imagine later that summer. Harry gets several owls on his birthday, all unsigned. The birds are plump and pretentious and well-cared-for. He will never know which Slytherins sent him their treasures: parchments with hexes developed by the Death Eaters; a strange locket that will only open if he whispers a special spell but that always shows him the picture he most needs to see; a page torn from a potions book that, brewed properly, will allow him extra time to summon a Patronus by giving him a few crucial seconds not just of happiness but of bliss. It doesn’t matter. Harry knows these gifts not as birthday gifts but for what they really are, and he treasures the locket and copies out the potion to send to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley, and when first summoned by the Order of the Phoenix he marches straight up to Dumbledore with the hexes and says “I can’t tell you where I got these, Professor. But they’re in use by the Death Eaters and I think you should have them.” Months later, Sirius will recognize the spell Bellatrix shoots at him, and will dive out of the way just in the nick of time.
The final battle. Everyone is there. Sirius somehow ends up herding a group of Slytherins. They all stare at him and he at them, across a centuries-old divide Voldemort has only succeeded in deepening. Then he remembers the hexes. Harry’s locket, now tucked under Sirius’ shirt because Harry’s friends are with him in this battle but most of Sirius’ are dead. The moment that happiness potion saved Remus’ life, his very soul. Snape’s final words to Harry, finally seen not as mockery but real true advice. What Harry said Voldemort said–his first words in his new form. They are kids, and they are sharing the same kind of hurt he once wouldn’t admit to, watching his mother burn his name off the family tree. “When we go in there, it’s going to be hell,” he tells the Slytherins. “Some of you are probably going to die. I might go down too, and if I do I want your best curser in the front. But I want you all to remember one thing. There are no spares.” Later retellings of the battle never fail to mention the moment a group of angry, screaming teens burst into the Great Hall, wearing their green and silver as the badge of honor it should be, shouting NO SPARES, NO SPARES at the tops of their voices in between hexes and curses and the occasional physical punch. When Hermione is present, she always interrupts the storyteller to be sure everyone knows about the moment Blaise Zabini shoved her to the floor, dropped on top of her, fired off three curses in rapid succession and said “stay alive, Granger, we need you” before jumping back to his feet and vanishing into the melee–how, for all anyone knows, those may have been his last words, and she will not let his sacrifice go unnoted.
The aftermath. Malfoy holds out a hand to Sirius, badly injured on the floor. Sirius asks how Malfoy is willing to trust him. Malfoy nods at his chest. “You’ve got my godfather’s locket,” he says, and when Sirius and Harry finally speak after the battle Harry gives his full agreement to the very first thing out of Sirius’ mouth. They give the locket to Malfoy. Sirius grits his teeth and closes his eyes and opens them and says “He probably saved my life, giving Harry that.” He doesn’t say thank you. Malfoy hears it anyway.
The school reopens under a single banner: the four Houses united. The House rivalry is reduced to just that–a competition in fun–with those deep divides slowly healing to scars, and eventually away to nothing at all.
Imagine it.
Love at first sight
Love at first sight is when two people fight in a second-hand books store over the same book
My mother ladies and gentlemen
Do not pity the dead harry, pity the living, and, above all pity those who live without love.
How Domino’s was born
Once upon a time in a land far far away, I was a flower. I fell in love with a cactus who married me. His thorny surface and juicy stock attracted me. In a few months time, we made some babies. They were sadly drowned by the torrential storm in the desert where we had gone on vacation. When we went to retrieve their dead thorn, we found pizzas shaped like dominoes. Hence, DOMINO’S WAS FORMED.
We thus went back to Hogwarts to live in peace under the Whomping willow in peace. The Whomping willow, not knowing our deformed babies proceeded to throw them into the black lake and hence, burritoes were formed.
A Bemoaning Affair
'What have you done?' came the screeching that I was waiting for. The green slime on the floor not only highlighted the mud on the floor but also made it, in the most peculiar sense, beautiful. Looking at the mess, I had the faintest sense of deja vu. I guess catching your head girl and boy throwing mud and slime respectively at each other was not something the head mistress looks forward to. I guess you could say that it all started when the aristocratic prick walked into the common room with a smug smile on his face. 'Guess who got all O's in the N.E.W.T.S? That’s right, me!' I rolled my eyes with contempt. 'Guess what Malfoy, so did I!' He closed his sodding mouth after that. I guess what I did next might not have been the nicest thing I have done in the past seven odd years that we have had to live with each other. I hexed him. In my defence, he was humming the most annoying tune and I knew it was to annoy me. Therefore, I threw mud at him. It was not even a bat bogey hex! Of course, Malfoy being Malfoy just had to overreact and threw slime, green fucking slime all over me. After that, there was no turning back. This is how, Rose Weasley, that's me, was caught by the head mistress throwing mud at Scorpius Malfoy, the aristocratic prick, red handed. It would be an understatement if I said that our entire common room was covered in mud and slime. You could say we got into a shit load of trouble after that but it would be again be an understatement.
Instead of dishing out the usual detention or stripping us of our titles, McGonagall decided to do something different! Yippee! Notice the sarcasm. She decided that the only way to end this "Feud", as she liked to call it, was to send us to isolation. Yes, you heard me, ISO-FUCKING-LATION! She talked it over with our parents who agreed to it, you heard me, Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy agreed on something. I have an inkling suspicion that this was the handwork of mum and Mrs Malfoy. They were always amused by our antics.
It was decided that during Christmas break, instead of going home, both of us will be sent to a cabin in the Scottish Highlands, where for four weeks, we would live together, alone. There would be special wards put preventing us from apparating. Notice the enthusiasm in my voice. That is right, there isn't any. Fuck my life!
Rose and scorpius getting together after their first kiss during a huge argument in front of all the students.